Medical assistant Ilma Garcia takes vital signs of a refugee patient from Iraq at San Francisco General Hospital's Refugee Clinic.

Photo: Mathew Sumner, Special To The Chronicle

Medical assistant Ilma Garcia takes vital signs of a refugee...

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A sign at San Francisco General Hospital's Refugee Clinic is written in seven languages.

Photo: Mathew Sumner, Special To The Chronicle

A sign at San Francisco General Hospital's Refugee Clinic is...

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Community health worker and interpreter Lobsang Thinley, left, works with Tibetan refugee Lungrig Gyaltsen at San Francisco General Hospital's Refugee Clinic.

Photo: Mathew Sumner, Special To The Chronicle

Community health worker and interpreter Lobsang Thinley, left,...

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Nurse practitioner Naomi Schoenfeld, center, works with community health worker and interpreter Ibtisan Dahud, left, to determine prescriptions for a refugee patient from Iraq on Monday, June 20 at San Francisco General Hospital.

Wearing a gray head scarf and black cardigan sweater, the 45-year-old woman was confused. Her nurse practitioner had prescribed medication for stomach pains, an antidepressant and a sleeping aid, but the woman wasn't sure whether she was taking the right ones at the right time of day in the right doses.

The confusion was understandable considering the woman, a refugee who arrived in San Francisco from Iraq 18 months ago, had seen a doctor in her home country only for emergencies and had no medical records.

Naomi Schoenfeld, the nurse practitioner, told the woman to come back with all her medication bottles and they would review the plan.

"It's really important for you to know the names of your medications and what they're for," Schoenfeld told her.

"Well, whatever it is, I like it!" the woman said in Arabic through an interpreter, causing the women to erupt in laughter.

Now the woman, who didn't want her name used for fear of repercussions in Iraq and embarrassing her two daughters, has a lifeline to medical care - and also to friendship and guidance in a new country. It's all thanks to a special clinic at San Francisco General Hospital designed especially for refugees, those granted asylum and victims of human trafficking.

At the clinic on a recent morning, about a dozen patients sat in a waiting room watching "Toy Story" on a small television set. A banner noting that "June is Refugee Awareness Month" hung above them.

Dotting the walls was a poster noting that Albert Einstein was a refugee and a world map with pins marking the 45 home countries of patients who've used the clinic in the past year. China, Burma and a host of Central American countries were the most common homes of the 316 patients - though more are arriving from Iraq, granted refugee status because of the war.

Founded 31 years ago, the clinic treats patients newly arrived to San Francisco, Marin and San Mateo counties who have been granted legal residency here because of fear of persecution in their own countries. The clinic mostly recruits new patients through word-of-mouth, doing outreach to immigration lawyers and nonprofits that help refugees resettle here.

8 months of Medicaid

The federal government gives the new arrivals eight months of health coverage through Medicaid. After that, they're on their own, though San Francisco residents can transfer to the city's universal health care program, Healthy San Francisco, and continue using the clinic.

A six-person medical staff provides care for patients who often arrive with untreated chronic conditions such as hypertension and prediabetes.

"Our main goal is to treat their health conditions so they can start a new life in the United States," said Cristy Dieterich, program coordinator for the hospital's Newcomers Health Program, which is part of the clinic. "If you're not healthy, you can't do as well finding a job, learning English, taking care of your family. We think health is a good place to start."

The clinic also employs six community health workers who serve as interpreters, speaking 11 languages among them.

They explain a brand new medical system in which preventative treatments such as vaccinations and physicals are emphasized, and they connect patients with classes in English as a second language, job training programs, housing assistance, help getting a green card and assistance enrolling their children in the public schools. They've even been known to give demonstrations on how to ride the sometimes perplexing Muni system.

Firsthand knowledge

Lungrig Gyaltsen, 33, is from Tibet. He lives in the Sunset District and works as a waiter.

"I came here for a health screening - I got all my body checked up," he said through an interpreter, explaining a longtime sinus problem has finally been cleared.

Zaw Phan, 33, arrived in San Francisco in 2008 as a refugee from Burma and now serves as a community health worker. He said that in Burma, there's no health insurance and no medical records and people get care only when they're very sick. Now he helps newly arrived people from Burma navigate an expansive medical system.

"I'm so happy," he said. "I understand what their situation is, what they're struggling with."

Ibtisam Dahud understands, too. The community health worker and nurse arrived from the West Bank 33 years ago and now interprets for the clinic's Arabic-speaking patients, the vast majority from Iraq. She said 85 percent of them suffer from depression.

'Like I had family'

Dahud gives her cell phone number to all her patients, and the Iraqi woman with the head scarf has used it frequently. She left Iraq after witnessing many killings and being abandoned by her husband.

She is homeless, and when she can't find shelter space, she calls Dahud, whose husband runs a single-room-occupancy hotel in the Tenderloin and sometimes has a room available. The woman sees a therapist at the clinic once a month and also sees her nurse practitioner on a regular basis, Dahud helping her communicate all the while.

"When I came here, I didn't know anybody," the woman said through Dahud. "When I saw her, it was like I had family. She speaks my language, and I'm not alone."